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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26139439">Recovery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowbeast123/pseuds/Shadowbeast123'>Shadowbeast123</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Infinity Train (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Mental Instability, Recovery, Therapy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:33:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26139439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowbeast123/pseuds/Shadowbeast123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Simon respawns in real life after dying on the train, and gets the help he needs. Because clearly the train wasn't helping matters any.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alternative Summary: I saw the finale, cried, and got impatient. So...Have fun.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Simon really didn't know what was going on when he woke up at first...The only thing his brain could really register as he opened his eyes was that he was in someone's bathroom; which led to him looking down, and seeing that he was still in the same clothes he died in, and devoid of any glowing green numbers on his skin. His mind flashing between the white tile floor in front of him, and the image of the Ghom's gaping maw as it sucked the life out of him so quickly that his stomach churned, and he found himself retching into the toilet until he brought out what little food was in his stomach. His lips burning slightly as his stomach acids passed his lips, as his body instinctively heaved, and sent out more bile at both the taste and the smell of his vomit; his arms coming up to keep him from falling face first into the porcelain throne as he felt a thin sheen of sweat break out across his body that mixed in with his tears.</p>
<p>"What in the hell?" a voice grumbled from the hallway. Simon giving off one last retch into the toilet before he pulled his spent body away from the toilet long enough to see his aunt appear in the doorway through his tear-filled eyes. His body instinctively leaning up against the wall behind him as a choked sob broke free from his chest, and he ran his fingers up into his hair to try and keep it out of his face. "Simon?"</p>
<p>"Su...Susan..." he said, letting out another choked sob as his aunt snapped out of her trance, and ran to him; wrapping him up tightly into a hug that he hadn't felt in so long as he finally let out the anguished scream he had been holding back, and returned her hug just as tightly. Wailing into her shoulder as she shushed him, and ran her fingers through his hair before he managed to speak again. "Sue...I need help..."</p>
<p>"Okay," his aunt said, hugging him tightly as he bawled into her shirt. "Alright, I...I'll get you help. I...I'm just glad you're alive."</p>
<p>Gripping his aunt's shirt tightly in his hands, Simon gasped as he tried to even out his breathing and quit crying. Shutting his eyes tightly in an attempt to stop the flow of tears as she shushed him like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and rubbed his back. Giving him a silent reassurance that he was okay as he buried his face into the crook of her shoulder and just sobbed for what was probably hours before he was finally able to pull himself away to try and breathe.</p>
<p>"Simon...where did you even come from?" Susan asked.</p>
<p>"I...I don't know..." Simon said, his voice weak and broken as his aunt grabbed a washcloth from the shelves next to the sink, and ran it under the tap. "I...Sue, I spiraled...I spiraled. I-"</p>
<p>"It's okay now, Simon," Susan said, the sweat and tears off her nephew's face as Simon let out a sniffle, and felt her wipe his snot off with the cloth as well before he pushed her hands away. "We'll talk about it in the morning. But let...Let's just get you into bed. You look exhausted."</p>
<p>Letting out a tired sigh as he felt his aunt grab onto his bicep to help him up, Simon stood, and walked with his head hung as Susan took him across the hall to the guest room. His body crashing onto the bed almost instinctively as an exhausted sigh escaped from his lips, and he kept an eye on his aunt as she sat down beside him; letting him rest his head on her leg, as she ran her fingers through his hair and just looked down at him in astonishment.</p>
<p>"Sue," he spoke up. "Can...Can you stay with me?...At least until I fall asleep."</p>
<p>"Of course," Susan said, seeing her nephew's eyes start to flutter shut. "I'll be right here."</p>
<p>"Thanks," he said, letting his eyes slip shut as he welcomed the darkness once again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning seemed to come too quickly after he came back. And in all honesty, this all felt like some sort of dream...Like he was expecting to wake up on the bridge between the cars all alone, or just expecting to not wake up at all, and be in an empty dark void; but instead, he was in his aunt's guest room, breathing in the soothing scent of the lavender soap she used to wash the sheets, and just taking in the sounds of the birds outside his window since it was the first time in years he'd woken up without hearing the train's engine far off in the distance. His stomach aching from the previous night's events, and threatening to send up more bile as he stared up at the ceiling fan, and felt like the entire world was crushing down on his chest as he was hit with memory after memory of all the things he had done back on the train with Grace's face lingering in the back of his mind.</p>
<p>"Hey sleepyhead," his aunt said, breaking him out of his thoughts, and getting him to look over at her and see her in the doorway again. "How're you feeling?"</p>
<p>"I don't know," he said, taking his eyes off his relative and staring up at the ceiling as she came over to him, and sat down beside his head. "Physically, I feel like shit because of all my puking...Emotionally, I'm completely drained...And mentally I feel like I deserve to die a second time."</p>
<p>"Come again?" his aunt asked, hearing him let out a tired sigh as he closed his eyes to try and contemplate is next choice of words.</p>
<p>"It's been a rough eight years," he said, opening his eyes again to look at her. "And I'm pretty sure that if I tell you, or a doctor what happened...You'd either lock me away in an insane asylum or just kick me out on the street."</p>
<p>"Now, don't say that," his aunt scolded. "I don't care how bad it was. I'm not just going to kick you out on the street like your parents did."</p>
<p>"Susan, I tried to kill someone," he confessed, his tone blank and devoid of any emotion as his aunt looked down at him in shock because she hadn't expected him to just outright say it. "They were my rock and best friend for eight years...and I tried to kill them. Twice."</p>
<p>"Okay..." she trailed. "That's..."</p>
<p>"Psychopathic?" he asked.</p>
<p>"I was going to say 'problematic'. But I think that might be sugarcoating it," Susan said, tucking her nephew's hair behind his ear as Simon let out a heavy sigh, and sat up. "I mean, if you don't want to tell me why you almost killed this person, and save that bit for therapy. That's fine. But I am in no way going to abandon you. You've already had that happen once."</p>
<p>"Three times actually," he said, his voice breaking a bit as his aunt rubbed his back. "Third time was my fault."</p>
<p>"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" his aunt asked.</p>
<p>"Not right now," he told her, wiping his eyes off before the tears could start falling again. "I...I'm just still trying to process everything...And believe me, there's a ton of shit to unpack."</p>
<p>"Are you willing to unpack it all over breakfast?" she asked. "Because I'm making blueberry waffles. Your favorite."</p>
<p>"With the-"</p>
<p>"With the maple butter sauce," she said, seeing his eyes light up just a little at the offer of his favorite breakfast. "You're my favorite and only nephew. You really think I'm not going to spoil you somewhat after eight years of not seeing you?"</p>
<p>"T-Thank you," he said, hesitating to say the word because he knew he didn't deserve any of his aunt's kindness.</p>
<p>"It's no problem," Susan said, giving him a warm, almost motherly smile that nearly sent him spiraling back into the blubbering puddle of tears he had been the night before as she licked the pad of her thumb, and tried to wipe off the lipstick wave that was still across the bridge of his nose before she stood up. "Go wash your face off. I'll get the coffee started."</p>
<p>Seeing his aunt go back out into the hallway, Simon got up from the bed, and made his way back into the bathroom. The faint smell of citrus air freshener hitting his nostrils the second he walked through the door, and entered the white tiled room again. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, and almost letting out a disgusted grunt at the sight before him; long, messy blonde bedhead with tired eyes, and an ashen complexion that was still lingering like the taste of vomit on his tongue. But as quickly as he wanted to spit on his reflection, he felt his heart drop as he got hit with another bout of mixed emotions, and found himself hunched over the sink retching again. His hand barely having enough time to turn the tap before more bile made it's way into the sink and down the drain, as he shut his eyes tightly. Still seeing Grace's shocked and terrified expression from when he had kicked her off of the bridge, and retching into the sink again before the steam from the sink brought him back into reality for a brief moment long enough to wash his face off before he turned off the water, and brought his head back up to look in the mirror again. His ashen face now bright red from the scalding heat of the water as beads of it dripped down his face and back into the sink.</p>
<p>"Look at you," his reflection said to him, making his heart jump back up into his throat as he took a step back, and watched as as the blonde, sweaty thing in the mirror grew a twisted grin on it's face. "Eighteen years old, and once again, you have proven yourself to be a fuck up. You don't deserve a second chance. You weren't even worthy of any sort of love. Your parents made that clear from the beginning."</p>
<p>"Simon," Susan's voice called from downstairs, making Simon turn his head away from the mirror for a split second before he turned to look back, and saw himself standing inches from his face; a startled gasp catching in his throat as he jumped backwards, and tripped over the edge of the tub. His hand reaching out to grab onto the curtain to try and catch himself, only to fall on his ass hard, and bring the entire curtain rod down on his head; looking back up to see the his reflection light up with glowing green numbers as it's twisted smile grew larger.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't listen to anything she says," his reflection told him. "You know she's just going to abandon you too. First your parents, then Samantha, Grace...Face it, Laurent. You're toxic. Insane. Pathetic. The only 'man' you're ever going to be, is the same as your father."</p>
<p>"Stop..." he muttered, running his hands up into his hair again, and pulling tightly on the strands as he shut his eyes tightly, and tried to will away his own voice as more tears leaked past his eyes.</p>
<p>"You know, your mom was smart in leaving you," his voice continued as more memories of Grace's face flashed through his mind. Her face and eyes devoid of any sort of emotion like he had left her in the Origami Car after trapping her inside of her own mind with her tape. "She probably would have offed herself if she got stuck with the exact carbon copy of the man who dragged her down."</p>
<p>"Stop it..." he growled, almost feeling as if something was behind him as he tried to get out of the tub at the sound of his aunt's voice calling out to him again.</p>
<p>"She's lying, you know," his brain said, making his throat tighten as he tried to hold back a sob. "Auntie's going to hear your whole story, find out about everything you did, and then she'll kick you to the curb like your parents did. She doesn't care. She doesn't love you. The only 'love' you deserve is the kind you get in a prison cell. Because that's exactly where you're going to end up!" </p>
<p>"Shut up!" he yelled, jumping out of the tub, and punching the mirror so hard that it shattered into the sink. His shoulders heaving with each breath he took before he realized what he had just done, and pulled his fist away; staring at his reflection in the cracked glass as his knuckles throbbed, and he looked down to see that he was bleeding onto the counter top as he heard Susan's footsteps come running back up the stairs because of the crash.</p>
<p>"Simon!" she shouted, getting him to look over to see her in the doorway once again as his legs went numb, and he fell to his knees on the floor. A choked sob ripping out of his throat yet again as his eyes burned with fresh tears, and he curled up into ball as Susan came over to him, and knelt down in front of him. "Simon?"</p>
<p>"I...I'm so sorry..." he said, letting out a sob as his aunt sat down on the floor with him, and got the first aid kit out. "I...I didn't...I should be..."</p>
<p>"It's alright, Simon," she soothed, opening up the kit, and taking his clenched fist into her hand to get the glass out with a pair of tweezers. "I...I was going to replace the mirror anyway."</p>
<p>Feeling her start to take the shards of mirror out of his knuckles, Simon took a shaking breath, and sat back up on the floor. Being careful not to pull his hand from his aunt's grasp as he brought his free hand up, and wiped his eyes again as he leaned up against the sink.</p>
<p>"I...I'm turning into dad. Aren't I?" he said, looking to his aunt as Susan placed the mirror shards onto the washcloth he had used to wash his old Apex symbol off of his face.</p>
<p>"Of course not," she said, focusing on his hands as she cleaned away the blood, and he let out a huff as he turned his head to just look at the ceiling again. "You admitted you need help. That in of itself makes you far better than your father by longshot."</p>
<p>"But I almost killed someone," he said.</p>
<p>"Keyword with you being 'almost'," Susan said, bandaging up his hand as he looked back at her. "Now get up so we can get some grub in you. You must be starving."</p>
<p>Standing up from the floor once his aunt had tossed out the mirror shards into the trashcan, Simon followed her out of the bathroom, and back down the stairs. Trying his best to keep his heart from trying to bust out of his chest again as he looked around, and saw that his aunt had redecorated in the eight years he had been gone. Gone were the family photos of him and his parents, and the pictures of her wedding; memories replaced with stock footage photos of cats, dogs, floral paintings. Basically anything Susan could find to fill the void where his extended family once sat on the wall.</p>
<p>"Hey, uh...Aunt Sue," he said, getting Susan to look back at him as he looked at an abstract painting on the wall. "What happened to uncle Gerald? I couldn't help but notice your guys' wedding pictures are all gone."</p>
<p>"Bah," she said, dismissing his question with a wave of the hand. "That rat bastard was working with your father, and got himself arrested. I divorced his ass a long time ago."</p>
<p>"I...I'm sorry to hear that," he said, not really sure how to respond since there was a lot he had to catch up on himself.</p>
<p>"Don't worry about it. I would've left him regardless," she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee, and turning to the waffle iron on the counter to ladle more waffle batter onto the burning hot metal. "Do you want me to pour you a glass of milk like before? Or do you actually drink coffee now."</p>
<p>"Uh...Coffee's fine," he said, getting a mug out of the cupboard she had just seen her use, and pouring himself a cup. "And thank you for letting me stay by the way. I...I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd woken up on the street."</p>
<p>"Hey, come on. Anything for what's left of the family," she said, adding a handful of blueberries to the waffle iron before she closed, and Simon went into the fridge to grab the milk. Watching him closely as he added some of the creamy white liquid to the dark brown coffee in his mug, and waiting until he had taken a sip before speaking up again. "Now...What was it you said about dying a second time?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>-Later That Day-</strong> </em> </span>
</p>
<p><span class="u"></span>"Okay, Simon. I'm going to need you to hold still for a minute," the nurse instructed, tying off part of Simon's arm just below the elbow to bring a vein forward so she could take some blood. "You might feel a slight pinch."</p>
<p>Biting back a grimace as the needle went into his skin, Simon turned his head to the side, and tried his best to busy himself with the pain scale poster on the wall, or the various other medical instruments they had yet to use on him; just anything in general from having to see them take his blood.</p>
<p>"You have got to be kidding me," his numbered self said, appearing over at the small sink against the wall across from him. "Eight years later, and you're still afraid of needles and a little blood? Come on, Laurent. Man up!"</p>
<p>"All done," the nurse said, dragging Simon out of his thoughts to see her taping down a small cotton ball to his skin, and untying his arm. "The doctor will be in in a few minutes to actually run the exam."</p>
<p>"Alright," he said, waiting until she had left before he turned back to face Susan in the chair five feet away.</p>
<p>"How're you holding up?" she asked.</p>
<p>"About as well as I can," he said, trying to ignore the pain filled twinge in his stomach. Still devoid of any sort of meal aside from the one cup of coffee he had drank at the house, because he had made the somewhat dumb move to lie to his aunt about the train, and instead spin a tale about how he had been kidnapped and kept heavily sedated since it was a lot easier to believe. A lie that he knew was going to be busted wide open once the results of his blood test came back clean. "It'd be nice if I could go back to bed though."</p>
<p>"Well, you can do that in a little while. We have one more doctor appointment to go to after this is over," she said, hearing him let out a tired sigh as he laid back on the exam table. Stifling as yawn as his mental and emotional exhaustion manifested itself into a physical response, and hearing his aunt's chair squeak slightly as he looked over, and saw her approaching him again. Hoping his tired state would further push the narrative that he was still drugged as Susan ran her fingers through his hair.</p>
<p>"You know, I could cut this if you want," she offered, toying with his hair the same way Grace did; making a pang of guilt hit him square in the chest, and quickly turn into an almost debilitating sense of fear as his heart rate sky rocketed, and he sat up fast. His head swimming at the sudden change in position as flashes of Grace's face danced through his memories, and made his heart feel like it was going to jump out through his throat at any moment; his chest tightening as he forced himself to take a deep breath to try and get his heart rate back to a more normal range before he started hyperventilating. "Simon?"</p>
<p>"I...I'm okay," he said, swallowing thickly to try and get his heart back in his chest, and keep his voice from breaking again. "I'm okay. Just...Just please don't play with my hair like that."</p>
<p>Hearing someone knock on the door, Simon jumped out of his skin, and turned to look as the doctor came in. The next twenty minutes passing by in a blur as they pretty much just repeated the same routine they did with the nurse, and just double checked to make sure he wasn't going to keel over in the next ten seconds before he was back in the car, and on his way to the next doctor. Resting his head against the window to try and grab a nap before they got to the clinic. But doing that just brought back more memories of his descent into madness back on the train before he was startled awake by Susan putting a hand on his shoulder to wake him up at a red light.</p>
<p>"You okay?" she asked, seeing a new sheen of sweat break out across Simon's face as he swallowed again, and actually felt the color drain out of his face as he tried to catch his breath, and remind himself that the he wasn't on the train anymore and that the Ghoms can't hurt him here.</p>
<p>"Bad dream," he said, wiping his face off as his numbered self appeared in the backseat with his feet propped up on the center console, and body leaning back into the seat in a form of nonchalance as he grinned at him in the mirror. "Uh...Do we have to go to the other doctors? I'm really tired."</p>
<p>"It's not going to take that long," Susan said, eyeing her nephew's pale complexion as the traffic light turned green. "Do you want to go through a drive-thru or something? Get something into your stomach?"</p>
<p>"I'm not that hungry," he said, seeing his aunt flip on the turn signal, and pull into a drive-thru anyway. "Sue-"</p>
<p>"Simon, I do not want you getting carsick, and yakking in my car," Susan said. "You're eating something."</p>
<p>"She's really going to regret doing this," the numbered Simon said, seeing the real one slink back into his seat as Susan ordered their food.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>-Later-</strong> </em> </span>
</p>
<p>"Well, Mr. Laurent, I have to admit. For someone's who's supposedly been held captive and sedated for years, your intelligence is remarkable," said the therapist, a mid-fifties man, with salt and pepper hair and dark eyes the same as Simon's hidden behind wire framed glasses.</p>
<p>"Isn't that a good thing?" Simon asked, sitting across from him on the couch.</p>
<p>"Not in your case," the therapist said, setting down his tablet. "It kind of gives me the feeling that certain aspects of your story may be a little off."</p>
<p>"What do you mean? I'm telling the truth," Simon said.</p>
<p>"No, you're not," the therapist said, seeing Simon's body tense. "Simon, I've worked with countless victims of kidnapping and human trafficking. Most of them-</p>
<p>"I said I'm telling the truth!" he barked, lashing out and flipping the table over as he jumped up to his feet. A tense silence taking over the office as he caught his breath, and realized what he had just done; his body flopping back onto the couch with a dull thud as he ran his fingers up into his hair to push it off of his face.</p>
<p>"Do you always fly into fits of rage like that?" the therapist asked, seeing Simon give off a weak nod once the tension had lessened.</p>
<p>"It's a family trait," he said, taking his hands out of his hair, and sheepishly putting the table back into it's prior position as his numbered self appeared at the opposite end of the couch. "I...I'm sorry you had to see that."</p>
<p>"No you're not," his numbered self said, propping his feet up on the table, and leaning back into the couch the same way he had done in the car.</p>
<p>"Don't worry about it. You wouldn't be the first patient I had with anger issues," the therapist assured, typing the incident down into his notes. "Now, back to your story of being kidnapped."</p>
<p>"I'm not lying about that," Simon reiterated, rubbing his temples in frustration as he heard his numbered self let out a snort. "Why would I even lie about that? I was a scrawny ten year old kid who would stay out on the streets for hours to escape the fact that my parents abandoned me at their leisure. It really wouldn't be that far of a stretch for someone to just snatch me up."</p>
<p>"I get that, Simon. But if your intelligence in of itself is anything to go by, you're lying about the part where you were drugged," the therapist said, holding up his tablet to emphasize his point. "The results on your blood test came back clean. And if you were really kept sedated like you said you were, you'd be going through some sort of withdrawal, and still have the average intelligence of a ten year old child. Not a young adult."</p>
<p>"Simon, why are you even here?" the numbered Simon asked, almost letting out a groan of boredom. "You're a 'Laurent'. You don't do stuff like this. You guys don't talk about your feelings, or bother other people with your troubles. Laurents deal with their problems alone. It's exactly how it's always been, and it's exactly how it's always going to be. You're wasting your time if you think this quack is going to do anything to keep you from turning into the man you've already become."</p>
<p>"Okay, so I lied about the drug part," Simon admitted, trying to brush off his lingering insanity as his numbered self let out a groan of frustration. "But it wasn't like I could really tell my aunt the truth about what actually happened. She'd just lock me away in a mental hospital or something."</p>
<p>"Well, what did happen?" the therapist asked, hearing Simon let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair again, and stared at the floor. "Because I can't really help you unless you tell me what's actually going on."</p>
<p>"I...I can't really tell you that either..." Simon said, sitting up a little straighter on the couch, and leaning his head back so he was facing the ceiling. "I...I'm not really sure how much of it was real. It...It all feels like some sort of dream. Some sort of nightmare I can't escape from. But...But it actually happened."</p>
<p>"Oh, spare me the sob story," his numbered self groaned, rolling his eyes in boredom as the therapist typed something else down into his tablet. </p>
<p>"Well, just take your time. You have plenty of it," he said, hearing Simon let out another sigh, and took his hands out of his hair again.</p>
<p>"I...I guess a good starting would be about eight years ago," he said. "I uh...I came home from school, saw that my parents were gone. Again. I was...I was on my way to the train station so I could stay with my aunt and uncle until they came back. Because there wasn't any food, and I couldn't exactly scrounge up the pocket change I needed to get anything from the store."</p>
<p>"Did your parents leave you at home like this before?" the therapist asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah, all the time," Simon said, letting out a curt laugh. "Mom traveled for work a lot, so she could avoid being around my father. And my dad was an ass who flew into a rage even when sober, and spent a lot of his time out at the bar. The only time either of them really gave a shit about me was if we were getting evicted, or child services got called in because I couldn't hide the suspicious bruise well enough, or because neither of them had come home in over two months, and I was out of food. It...It kind of resulted in me going in and out of the foster system a lot growing up."</p>
<p>"Didn't your aunt or any of your other relatives ever try to sue your parents for custody?" the therapist asked, seeing Simon shake his head.</p>
<p>"I couldn't even stay in a foster home for more than two days before my parents found me, and dragged me back home with them. There wasn't really a point," he said, bringing his leg up so one of his knees was against his chest. "Besides, I wasn't worth the attorney fees."</p>
<p>"So, what happened after you got to the train station?"</p>
<p>"I used what little pocket change I had, and what little cash I found on my way there. Bought myself a one way ticket to my aunt's, and waited for the train," Simon said, picking at his cuticles nervously as he felt his stomach start to twist into knots, and threaten to send up the breakfast sandwich he had scarfed down in the car on the way over. "But uh...The train was running late. It was winter, and part of the track had gotten frozen, and caused a cargo train to derail. So the train that would've taken me to my aunt's neighborhood got delayed by an hour."</p>
<p>"And what did you do after that?"</p>
<p>"I waited," he said. "I told you, I spent hours out on the street trying to avoid going home to an empty apartment for as long as possible. Even in the winter. So waiting an extra hour outside wasn't that huge of a deal to me."</p>
<p>"How long were you outside?"</p>
<p>"I don't know. Fifteen, twenty minutes," Simon continued, not really paying attention to the fact that he was making his fingers bleed as his brain replayed the memory of how he had gotten on the train. "I...I hadn't exactly planned out my wardrobe right, and wound up walking around in a pair of shorts most of the day. From school to my apartment, it wasn't that big of a deal. But...it doesn't exactly do you any favors if you wait out in the elements for the better part of an hour. And by the time I had decided to go back into the station itself rather than wait on the platform the rest of the time...They locked the doors thinking that no one was going to come back in. So I decided that I was better off just walking there. Try my best to keep my blood flowing in my legs before I got frostbite."</p>
<p>"Do you remember anything after that?" the therapist pressed, gaining more of an intrigue into Simon's story as he set his tablet to the side.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I remember a lot. It's just...This is where I feel like you're just going to write me off as just another patient having delusions. Because what happened next...there's really no way I can explain it without sounding completely insane. And I actually went insane at one point."</p>
<p>"You're not insane. You're just a pathetic little shit who actually buys into this crap," his numbered self quipped, making Simon glare at the hallucination out of the corner of his eye.</p>
<p>"Simon, I've been dealing with delusional patients for over thirty years. Trust me, there isn't much that can surprise me nowadays," the therapist said, trying to reassure the teenager in front of him that he was in a safe space to talk about his issues, as Simon continued to pick at his fingers.</p>
<p>"I...It's hard to find the right words to explain this," he said, running his hands through his hair again, and tying it off into a messy bun so it was out of his face. "I remember walking along the side of the road towards my aunt's neighborhood. The temperature was dropping fast, and I was starting to black out because of the hypothermia. I...I was actually considering laying down in a snow bank on the side of the road, and letting the elements take me. Because I felt like...I <em>knew</em> no one was going to care. Aside from my aunt, but she hadn't spoken to me or either one of my parents in over a year at that point. But then...then this train appeared, right in front of me. It...It looked like one of the normal trains that I got on over at the station, and the sign above the door said it was heading to my aunt's town. But...I wasn't anywhere near the station at that point. I wasn't anywhere near any sort of train tracks, and yet I was staring at one right in front of me. I...I wanted to just ignore it and keep walking. But...But my mom was one of those moms who thought socks with sandals was a practical things. I didn't own a pair of winter boots or sneakers to save my life, and I just really wanted to get out of the cold at that point, so...So I got on without much of a second thought."</p>
<p>"And what happened after you got on the train?" the therapist asked, making Simon's numbered counterpart let out a snort as he rubbed the bridge of his nose to try and get rid of sleep crust that wasn't there.</p>
<p>"I...I have no idea," he said. "I got on thinking it was just a normal train. But...I blacked out after I stepped through the door, and when I woke up I was in some antique store. A hoarder's paradise if you would. And it was run by a talking cat."</p>
<p>"That's...interesting," the therapist said, now getting an idea of what he was in for as he checked his watch. "Um...Were you able to find a window or something, so you could recognize where you were?"</p>
<p>"That's just the thing," Simon said. "The train cars...They didn't have windows. They...They were like their own little pocket dimension, and when you got outside, it was a barren wasteland riddled with Ghoms. These...These giant cockroach-dog hybrids."</p>
<p>"And this would be the part where he calls the hospital, and tells them to admit you to the psych ward," his numbered self said as the therapist made a note of Simon's story on his tablet.</p>
<p>"Simon, do you know if you have any history of mental illness in your family?" the therapist asked, not really bothering to beat around the bush with him at this point as Simon went back to picking at his fingers.</p>
<p>"If I do...I'm the first one to actually see someone like you and get help for it. Aside from my aunt," he said, seeing the therapist grab a pad of paper from his desk, and scribble something down with his pen. "My...My family was one of those 'pull yourself up by the bootstraps and shut the fuck up' kind of families whenever we were together. There...There really wasn't a lot of room to talk about the mental side of health on they days they were home."</p>
<p>"I see," the therapist said, checking his watch. "Well, it looks like our session's almost over. I'll talk with your aunt in a minute to discuss your next session, and give her your prescription."</p>
<p>"Prescription?" both Simons questioned.</p>
<p>"Don't worry, it's just a low dose sleeping medication to help take some of the edge off," the doctor said, trying to ease Simon's worries. "It'll last you about a month until our next session. In the meantime, I'm going to refer you and your aunt to another colleague of mine, see if we can run some more tests, and see what else I need to treat you for."</p>
<p>"Alright," he said, hearing his numbered self let out a huff as he stood up from the couch to leave. "And thank you again for talking with me, Dr. Brenner. It...It actually made me feel a little better."</p>
<p>"That's what I'm here to do," Dr. Brenner said, getting up from his desk, and walking with Simon back out to the waiting room.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>-Later that Evening-</strong> </em> </span>
</p>
<p>"I'm telling you, Simon. This therapy shit's pointless," Numbered Simon said, leaning up against the bathroom sink as Simon changed out the bandages on his knuckles. "You know it can only do but so much before you start spiraling again. You're better off ditching the shrink, and starting a drinking habit like the old man."</p>
<p>"Simon," Susan called from downstairs, a new tension filling the air as Simon glanced over to see that his numbered self had disappeared for the time being. "Can you come down here for a minute?"</p>
<p>Packing away the first aid kit to go see what his aunt needed, Simon rewrapped his knuckles and went down the stairs. The tension growing even more dense, as he felt his heart go back up into his throat when he saw one of the neighbors on the doorstep looking less than pleased to be having to talk to them.</p>
<p>"What's going on?" he asked, coming down the stairs the rest of the way, and trying his best not to immediately go on the defense as he felt the neighbor size him up from the door.</p>
<p>"Jason, you remember Christopher's son, Simon," Susan said, making it clear by her tone that Jason was not welcomed as Simon slinked back to try and get out of Jason's field of vision when he saw the hate filled look in his eyes. "Spitting image. Is he not?"</p>
<p>"Get that rat bastard out of here before someone else sees him," Jason spat, turning away from the door as Susan closed it, and let out a heavy sigh.</p>
<p>"What was that about?" Simon asked, hesitating to ask since he already knew in the back of his mind that his dad was likely to blame for the encounter.</p>
<p>"Don't worry about it," Susan said, resting her forehead against the door, and closing her eyes for a moment as she turned back to look at him. "You hungry? There's a pizza in the oven that should be ready in a few minutes."</p>
<p>"Okay..." he said, following her out towards the kitchen. "But are we really not going to talk about what happened back there?"</p>
<p>"There's nothing to talk about," Susan said, reaching into the cupboard to pull out a wine glass. "He just thought you were your father for a second. And as you can see, he knew he was wrong. So there's no need to worry."</p>
<p>"Sue, I could feel the tension from upstairs before you called me down to reintroduce me to him," he said, getting out his own wine glass from the cupboard, and but choosing to get a can of soda from the fridge instead as Susan took the cork out of her wine bottle. "I mean, I don't really blame any of your neighbors for having a bone to pick with <em>dad, </em>for a lot of obvious reasons. But if Jason's going to be showing up on the doorstep looking for a fight, just because I <em>look </em>like him. I think I'm a little entitled to know exactly what dad did to warrant this kind of greeting when I've been back for less than twenty-four hours."</p>
<p>"Simon, it's really not that big of a deal," Susan said, pouring herself a glass of wine as Simon saw his numbered self reappear right next to her, grinning in anticipation of his next move as Simon felt the anger rise in his chest, and quickly took a breath to try and quell the all too familiar emotion; because he knew from prior experiences that getting angry and demanding answers was not going to fly well with his aunt as much as it had with Grace for the last eight years.</p>
<p>"Sue," he spoke, letting out the breath once he felt calm enough to speak without it sounding like a command. "Please, don't do this."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" Susan asked.</p>
<p>"Don't lie," he said, trying his best not to noticeably hesitate at the words. Because despite the obvious age gap and gender difference between his aunt and father, he could still see the family resemblance enough to fear a strike to the face or a glass being chucked at his head at the sheer thought of calling out a grown adult for their lies. "I know that after eight years, you probably still feel the need to protect me since mom and dad never did...But you don't have to lie for dad, and protect me from the fact that he was an alcoholic sociopath. I knew that part about him long before I got kidnapped."</p>
<p>"Except for the fact that you weren't kidnapped. You lied," Susan said, seeing her nephew's already pale skin go a shade lighter out of shock.</p>
<p>"H-How did you-"</p>
<p>"I had a feeling," she said, seeing his face go red out of embarrassment as he opened his soda, and sheepishly poured it into the glass. "I was an addict myself for a good portion of your childhood, if you don't recall. I know what withdrawal looks like."</p>
<p>"Then why did you make me go to the doctor and take a blood test if you knew I was faking?" he said, trying his best not to shout.</p>
<p>"Because I assumed you were going to drop the act the second the nurse came in with that needle," she said, taking another sip from her wine as Simon let out an indignant huff. "Besides, it's been eight years. We needed to update your medical records."</p>
<p>"I can't believe this," he grumbled, taking a sip from his soda as Susan sat down at the table. "First day back after eight years, and the first thing you do is betray me by allowing me to make an ass of myself."</p>
<p>"Get used to it, kid," she said, taking another sip from her wine as the oven timer went off, and setting down her glass to get the pizza out. "So, do you want to talk about what <em>actually </em>happened? Or are you just going to keep me in the dark about it until we go back to see Dr. Brenner?"</p>
<p>"Don't fall for it, Simon. It's a trap!" Numbered Simon said to him.</p>
<p>"I...don't know," he admitted, seeing her set the pizza down on the stovetop. "I mean, it was kind of a miracle that Dr. Brenner didn't immediately call the hospital to lock me up in the psych ward when I told him the story. I really wouldn't want you to do it for him, and risk having the hospital force you to spend an arm and a leg just because I went crazy, and tried to kill someone."</p>
<p>"Again, keyword with you being <em>tried</em>," she said, getting the pizza cutter out of the drawer. "Geez, how many times am I going to have to keep explaining to you that I'm not going to kick you out because you did something stupid?"</p>
<p>"Because last I checked, attempted murder is still a crime. And I've known you to throw dad to the wolves on numerous occasions," Simon said.</p>
<p>"True, but I'm not going to just ship you off to prison when it was likely self defense," Susan said, seeing Simon flinch a little as he looked away sheepishly, and took another sip from his drink. "It was self defense...Right?"</p>
<p>"Well, I did tell you that I spiraled..." he started, seeing his aunt set the pizza cutter down, and turn to him with a smile that looked warm and inviting although he instantly picked up on the changing tension in the room.</p>
<p>"Simon..." Susan said, her warm smile switching to a more stern expression as she pointed at the table. "Sit. Now."</p>
<p>"Yes ma'am," he muttered. Shuffling over to the table, and taking a seat as Susan took a breath, and rubbed the bridge of her nose before speaking again.</p>
<p>"Alright," she said, turning her shoulder to him, and picking up the pizza cutter. "Let me see if I have this straight. You disappear for eight years, and nearly killed someone blind stinking sober and knowing exactly what you were doing. And the first thing you do is lie to me?"</p>
<p>"Well, you didn't exactly ask me to elaborate. So..." he trailed.</p>
<p>"What else are you hiding?" Susan said, seeing Simon shrink down into his chair at the command as he set his glass on the table to bring his hands up to the back of his neck.</p>
<p>"Oh boy, here we go," Numbered Simon said, reappearing beside him as Simon sighed, and picked his head back up to look at his aunt.</p>
<p>"Simon," Susan said, taking a step forward. "What are you hiding?"</p>
<p>"How exactly can I tell you how I got on a train to the middle of nowhere and joined a murder cult without you getting mad?" he asked, seeing her stern expression falter into a look of shock as she processed his words.</p>
<p>"YOU DID WHAT!?!"</p>
<p>"Now you did it," Numbered Simon said, propping his feet up on the table, and placing his arms behind his head to enjoy the show as Simon sunk down further into his seat.</p>
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